by Lee Hollis
“Mom!” Gemma admonished.
“I’m sorry,” Hayley said to her daughter before turning to Conner and offering him an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Conner, I was just really curious as to what Sergio was about to say.”
Conner raised his free hand holding his fork, signaling his surrender, and quietly went back to eating his lasagna.
Hayley felt bad about lashing out, but she was on the edge of her seat. She spun back to Sergio. “You were saying something about ‘at first’?”
“At first I thought it was an accident. But after talking to Ted, I’m not so sure.”
“Why? What did he say?” Bruce asked, now as curious as Hayley.
“Ted insists there was a carbon monoxide detector inside the truck that would have gone off and warned Trudy if her kitchen was filling up with gas. But when we swept the food truck for any evidence of foul play, we found no sign of any detector.”
“You think someone deliberately removed it?” Bruce asked.
“We’re not sure. But Ted maintains he saw it there earlier in the day. But it was missing when we arrived on the scene. Still, that’s not enough to classify the death as a homicide. Trudy could have removed it to replace the batteries and just forgot to put it back.”
“Well, what about Cloris Fennow?” Hayley asked pointedly.
“I know all about Cloris,” Sergio said. “I already questioned her. She admitted she wasn’t happy about Trudy cockroach-ing on her territory...”
Conner stared at Sergio, puzzled.
Randy smiled and patted Sergio’s arm. “Encroaching. Encroaching on her territory.”
“What did I say?” Sergio asked.
“Cockroach-ing,” Randy said.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Sergio asked.
Randy shook his head. “No, not really.” He turned to Conner. “English is his second language.”
Conner tried not to laugh.
“Anyway,” Sergio continued. “Cloris Fennow hated the fact that she had new competition in town, and was very upset that the Garbers hired Trudy instead of her to work the Witches Ball, but she swears she was nowhere near the Garber house when Trudy died.”
“Where was she?” Hayley asked.
“Home,” Sergio said.
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Alone?”
Sergio nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s what I call a flimsy alibi,” Hayley scoffed. “Did she have anything to say about poisoning poor Trudy so she would get sick and be unable to work the Witches Ball?”
“No, because we have no concrete proof Cloris was the one responsible for making Trudy sick, so it’s just a suspicion at this point,” Sergio said.
Hayley was not satisfied at all.
She was now determined to prove that Cloris Fennow had targeted her new friend by poisoning her, and then, when that didn’t work, tampering with her propane tank and trapping her inside her own truck with the express purpose of killing her competition.
Sergio was done discussing the Trudy Lancaster case, and decided to redirect back to Conner and his ugly American in Italy story, which Hayley only half heard because she was so consumed with thoughts of proving Cloris Fennow’s guilt, and just how she was going to do that.
After everyone was done eating and waited for Sergio to polish off his third helping, Gemma took charge clearing the plates and serving the spumoni ice cream cake from the freezer. By the time the third wine bottle was empty and the coffee pot was brewing, Bruce stood up from the table. “Sergio, could I speak to you privately?”
Hayley suddenly jolted out of her own thoughts and was now laser-focused on Bruce.
What was this all about?
“Sure,” Sergio said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and followed Bruce out of the room. They didn’t just go into the living room to talk, which was still within earshot, they actually stepped outside onto the front porch, closing the door behind them.
Gemma glanced at her mother, wondering if she knew what this could be about, but Hayley just shrugged and shook her head. She was dumbfounded.
What was so secretive that her newlywed husband could not speak freely in front of her? Hayley was suddenly very worried about what it was that he might be hiding from her.
Chapter 17
Hayley had to admit that the cheeseburger with its homemade tangy ketchup and grilled onions she had ordered from Cloris Fennow’s food truck, Burger She Wrote, during her lunch hour was delicious. She had taken a bite and could not hide her look of pleasure from Cloris, who glared down at her from the truck’s service window, waiting to gauge her reaction.
With her mouth full, Hayley nodded and managed to get out, “Tasty” as she chewed. Satisfied her only customer was happy, Cloris disappeared back inside her truck. Hayley was half done eating her burger when Cloris reappeared with a paper bag of seasoned curly fries and handed it down to her. “Oh, I didn’t order these.”
“They come with the burger,” Cloris barked.
“Um, okay, thank you.” With the last of her burger in one hand and a bag of fries in the other, Hayley leaned down and grabbed one of the fries with her teeth. She threw her head back so the curly fry fell into her open mouth and gasped with delight at the mouth-watering salty taste.
After swallowing, she smiled at Cloris. “These are remarkable.”
“It’s all in the seasoning,” Cloris said, puffed out and proud that Hayley, who had been such a vocal supporter of her late rival, Trudy Lancaster, was finally appreciating her obvious culinary talents.
Hayley was far less interested in building up Cloris’s confidence, however. That was not the reason she had driven around town until she spotted Cloris’s food truck parked outside the post office. No, she wanted to locate Cloris in order to pump her for information, perhaps even catch her in a lie, in order to prove that she was behind Trudy’s demise. And she had already spotted possible evidence that Cloris might not have been truthful with Sergio while she was busy grilling Hayley’s burger because just behind Cloris when she was peeling off a piece of cheddar cheese to top the burger with, Hayley could clearly see a traditional black witch costume hanging on a rack in the corner of the truck.
“I didn’t see you at the Witches Ball,” Hayley remarked as casually as possible.
“That’s because I wasn’t there,” Cloris barked. “Like I told the police chief, I stayed home.”
“Oh, I just assumed you were there because you have a witch costume hanging in your truck.”
Cloris paused, turned to look at the costume hanging on the rack, and then turned back, remaining silent for a few moments as she decided on just how she would respond.
Finally, she cleared her throat and said abruptly, “I had planned on going, but decided against it. It would have upset me too much to see Trudy Lancaster there making all the money I should have made catering that party.”
“I see,” Hayley said, studying Cloris and trying to assess if she was telling the truth or not.
“Thanks for reminding me. I need to return that costume to the rental shop. What a waste of twenty-five dollars.” Cloris snorted as she disappeared again from the Burger She Wrote service window, only to reappear holding a candy apple on a stick. “Here, have a candy apple on the house.”
Hayley stepped back, startled, which caused Cloris to wrinkle her nose and raise an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Hayley sputtered. “Is that the same kind of candy apple you gave Trudy?”
“Yeah, I like to make a few batches every year, but now that Halloween is over, I’m trying to get rid of them. Go ahead, take it.”
“No, thank you,” Hayley said abruptly.
There was no way she was going to risk ending up in the hospital the way Trudy did.
“You don’t like candy apples?” Cloris said, scowling.
Hayley patted her stomach. “I’m just trying to cut down on sugar.”
“Suit yourself,” Cloris huffed, withdrawing her toffee-coated
offering. Then she slammed down her security gate, locking it from the inside. She emerged from the back of the truck with the witch’s costume in a paper shopping bag. “Lunch rush is over so I’m going to run a few errands.”
“Will I see you at Trudy’s memorial later this week?”
Cloris stared at her dumbfounded and then said, “No, you won’t. I’m many things, but a hypocrite is not one of them.”
“I totally understand. It’s probably what Trudy would have wanted anyway,” Hayley said without thinking.
Cloris stared icily at her, trying to determine if what Hayley had just said was a direct insult, which of course it was.
Hayley braced herself for a verbal attack, but Cloris declined going on the offense, probably because Hayley was now a paying customer and quite possibly a new regular.
Instead, she just barked, “Whatever.”
Cloris slammed the back doors of her truck shut and typed a code on a digital security panel, which automatically locked all the doors.
Hayley smiled to herself. Cloris hadn’t bothered covering the panel with her hand so Hayley could not see the numbers she had pressed.
6-1-2-7-5.
Hayley repeated the numbers over in her mind several times trying to memorize them. If the opportunity presented itself at some point, she had just found a way to search the Burger She Wrote food truck for further evidence that might implicate Cloris Fennow in what Hayley was now becoming convinced was Trudy Lancaster’s murder.
Chapter 18
The turnout for Trudy’s memorial service at the Bar Harbor Congregational church was far larger than Hayley had expected given the short amount of time the Lancasters had been in town. But the tragic circumstances surrounding Trudy’s death and the vociferous local support for the new minister drew a healthy crowd. By Hayley’s estimation, there had to be upward of a hundred people filling the pews on that chilly, overcast early November Saturday afternoon.
Hayley and Bruce waited behind a group of people paying their respects to Trudy, whose coffin was set up near the front amidst an array of flower arrangements. Hayley was also surprised Ted had requested an open-casket service, but according to Reverend Staples, the grieving husband wanted everyone to be able to get one last look at his beautiful wife before they buried her.
When the mourners ahead of them had parted, leaving the way clear for Hayley and Bruce to step up to the coffin, Hayley took a deep breath and gripped Bruce’s hand tightly. She had seen many dead bodies in her life and so she never got apprehensive or nervous, but Bruce on the other hand, who ironically covered local crime, which required him on many occasions to gaze upon a corpse, was constantly filled with anxiety whenever he had to take even a quick peek. Bruce had spent the entire morning preparing, gearing himself up for the inevitable when Hayley broke the news that Ted was going with an open-casket service. Still, he wanted to be there to show his support for his new buddy Ted and what he was going through, so despite his instinct to blow it off, he had dutifully put on a suit and tie and bravely drove to the church with his wife.
Hayley noticed as they stepped up to the coffin that Bruce’s eyes were squeezed shut. She smiled to herself, deciding not to force Bruce to look if he didn’t want to. His back was turned to the congregation of mourners so it wasn’t as if anyone would know he was avoiding looking at the deceased in repose.
Staring at Trudy, who looked gorgeous and peaceful, as if she was just taking a nap, Hayley’s heart broke at the tragic loss. Trudy was such a vibrant, lovely young woman and Hayley had been looking forward to getting to know her better, convinced they were destined to be close friends. Trudy looked resplendent in a stylish yet demure dress she was wearing, a long-sleeved pink wrap dress, her favorite color according to Ted. What stood out most to Hayley, however, was a ruby teardrop birthstone pendant pinned to the dress.
“That’s exquisite,” Hayley said mostly to herself since Bruce’s eyes were still shut.
“What?” Bruce whispered, refusing to even open one eye to see what she was talking about.
“The pendant she’s wearing. It’s stunning.”
“It’s her birthstone,” a man said from behind them. Hayley turned to find Ted, his face pale and drawn, his shoulders slumped, physically exhausted from the gut-wrenching events of the last week. “Trudy was born in July. When she was twelve, her mother gave her a red ruby, which she had fashioned into that pendant. Trudy treasured it and wore it on very special occasions. I knew she would want to be buried with it.”
Bruce turned away from the coffin and finally opened his eyes as he faced Ted and gave him a hug. “I am so, so sorry for your loss, Ted.”
“Thanks, Bruce,” Ted said, his voice cracking, trying to stay strong but finding it harder by the minute.
Hayley followed Bruce’s lead and hugged Ted as well once Bruce took a step back. “If there is anything we can do—”
Before she had a chance to finish her thought, Ted was nodding and interrupting her. “There is absolutely something you both can do. You can help me prove that Trudy was murdered.”
This took them both by surprise. Not that Ted suspected foul play, but that he was not even going to wait until after the memorial to discuss it. But his searing look of grim determination told Hayley that he was out of patience and wanted answers.
“The police are still investigating and so I’m sure we will know something soon...” Bruce said, gently placing a hand on Ted’s arm.
“I’m sick of waiting around for them to tell me what I already know. I had just replaced the batteries in that carbon monoxide detector and had tested it myself on the morning Trudy died. It was there in the truck, I’d swear on my life. Somebody deliberately removed it before fiddling with the propane tank!”
Reverend Staples suddenly appeared, and said solemnly, “If you would be so kind and take your seats, we can get started.”
Ted reacted, startled, a bit discombobulated by the reverend’s presence, but he acquiesced to the request and nodded to Reverend Staples before whispering out of the side of his mouth to Hayley and Bruce, “We’ll talk later.”
Ted then took his seat in the front row of the pew. Hayley and Bruce walked back a few rows, settling in on the aisle across from Edie Staples, who was squeezed into a tight black dress and wearing a matching black hat, which was decorated with white tulips to apparently give it a little flair.
Reverend Staples signaled the doddering, bespectacled organist, who had been playing “Time to Say Goodbye” during the viewing, to finish up and she abruptly stopped, grabbing her bottle of water off the top of the organ and taking a swig.
Reverend Staples gripped the sides of the podium, cleared his throat and began. “I’d like to welcome you all here as we celebrate the life of a truly remarkable woman, Trudy Lancaster.”
Hayley noticed the reverend’s eyes welling up with tears.
“I was lucky enough to get to know Trudy during the few short weeks she was here in Bar Harbor. As many of you know, Trudy’s husband, Ted, has been designated as my successor, and we have been working closely together during the transition to my retirement, and Trudy...” He choked up, tried clearing his throat again. “Trudy...”
Hayley glanced over to see Edie Staples rolling her eyes in annoyance.
“She . . . Well, you can see for yourselves what a beautiful, dare I say, dazzling woman she was...”
The mourners shifted uncomfortably in their seats as Reverend Staples’s sermon threatened to cross the border into creepy terrain.
“When I first laid eyes on her, she literally took my breath away...”
Hayley turned to Bruce, whose eyes were glued to the floor as he said to Hayley out of the side of his mouth, “This is getting too weird.”
Suddenly Reverend Staples finally lost it and broke down sobbing. “Trudy, I will miss you... we will all miss you so much!”
Everyone sat still, waiting for him to compose himself again, but two minutes passed and he was still a blubbe
ring mess, unable to speak, constantly wiping his wet face with the sleeves of his purple peach-skin pulpit robe.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, someone heckled from the congregation, “For the love of God, get a hold of yourself!”
It was Edie Staples, who frankly had suffered enough. She stood up and pointed a crooked finger at her husband. “You’re making a complete fool of yourself! Now buck up and get on with it!”
Reverend Staples nodded to his wife, trying his best to get his well of emotions under control. Finally, he managed to resume his sermon, mostly from the fear of further browbeating and pestering from his peeved spouse. The rest of the reverend’s speech was actually quite moving and inspirational; it was clear he had spent quite a bit of time preparing it. But he wrapped it up pretty quickly. Hayley suspected he had cut it short due to his overwrought emotions that were now consuming him.
After inviting everyone to partake in the reception in the side room, featuring Edie’s homemade baked goods, Reverend Staples disappeared into his office and apparently locked himself inside, never to be heard from again for the rest of the afternoon.
Edie put on a brave face as she ignored her husband’s obvious affection for the deceased and focused on making sure everyone feasted on her dry, tasteless cakes and brownies. Hayley and Bruce tried locating Ted to once again offer their condolences but the handsome minister-in-training was already being descended upon by women who were mostly single, older, and made available by death or divorce, anxious to let the grieving widower know they wanted to be there for him in his time of need. Instead of waiting for him to have a free moment, Hayley and Bruce decided to slip out and head home.
Outside the church, they stopped at their car, which was parked toward the back of the packed gravel lot.
Bruce turned to Hayley. “Why didn’t Sergio and Randy come today?”
“Randy’s understaffed and could not get anyone to cover for him at the bar, and Sergio’s busy trying to get Ted some answers about Trudy’s death.”
“Poor guy. What he must be going through...”